Letters

June Harris & Dre Fuller | 1

"Here goes nothing." I said, taking a deep breath.

I felt like this task was silly— writing a letter to someone who would never read it, but my therapist insisted it would be 'cathartic'. I guess it's worth a shot.

Dre,

I remember when we met, how you occupied my mind at all hours of the day. how my friends would roll their eyes when I brought you up for the millionth time, how I got butterflies at the mention of your name, how I silently— secretly imagined our future together.

I remember being obsessive, wondering if you thought about me the way, or as much as I thought about you. Nowadays it troubles me to think you never did. I hate to think about how your friends probably never knew my name, or how you never got those butterflies..or how you would have never imagined our future together because you knew there wouldn't be one.

By this time I don't doubt you had these feelings for someone else— or for many other people. Did you toss them aside like you did me?

Im sorry that I love so hard. For so long I thought that I was unlovable, so when i found you I was willing to do anything for you. That may have been one of the only things you loved about me. I would do whatever you said, because I would do anything to make you happy. But once you got what you wanted, you'd disappear. I used to give myself an explanation as to where you'd go— or why you were even gone. It was right in front of me.

Even as I write this, I wonder why I still have hope that you would come back. A miracle of some sort, or some omniscient being that could explain this all to me— but I learned my lesson about 'hope'.

You taught me well.